I'm the White Pig Nobleman, but With the Memories of My Previous Life, I'll Raise My Littl

Like the capture scene of a certain gray extraterrestrial life form, it was the adjacent inn and dining room kitchen that was taken by two adults with their sides sandwiched.

The kitchen is kind of like the 1930s with terrop, and it's very tiny.

On the cooking table is a block of pork, with eggs, bread flour, and flour sitting on it.

"Are you sure you can cook like this?

I've turned a skeptical eye to my young brother, the cook and innkeeper, with brown hair and a slightly poorly eyed and no eyebrows.

Everything. I hear he's been cutting up shops with your mother since your dad died last year.

Mr. Laurent dented me that I was dating someone who wasn't a good pattern when I was almost younger, and I can't seem to get my head up.

In the first place, it seems that people who store in the shopping district of Kikunai territory are mostly taken care of by Laurent in some way, and because Kikunai unfortunately has no merchant guild or artisan guild, the shopping district takes care of the side connection, and Laurent is probably like an opinion number or autonomous chairman in your town.

By the time I got here, Dr. Romanoff taught me that my father had come to see Mr. Laurent, and as a face player, he wanted Mr. Laurent to tell everyone about the tax cuts, too.

gossip.

Step on a small chair and borrow an apron, knife and slab.

I need to be careful because it seems a little sharp to look at the blade all the time.

Washing his hands thoroughly and then placing a chunk of meat on the slab, his brother, who had no eyebrows, barked.

"I wonder if that knife will cut to death! You can't cut your fingers off!?

"Yes, thank you"

Bright pink meat, soft grease as white as you can see. Slowly sliding the blade, the meat is divided so that it can be solved.

Now place the meat cut into impeccable thicknesses, on the slab, put a knife between the fat and the meat and cut the muscle, banging it with its back.

Nose is this song when it comes to cooking, and I'm sending it to you in a toy march (march).

If you beat it all over and beat it to shape the meat, now salt pepper. Peppers aren't cheap, but they're not so much valuables, so I thought I'd be sure.

Break the eggs while taming the bottom flavor, put the flour and bread flour on separate plates... Oh, my God, I can't do that with my little hands. Then his browless brother walked into the kitchen, mumbling.

"What are you gonna do with the egg crack? Are you a stirrer n '?

"Yes, stir first"

"Ooh."

Tiny, vegetable chopsticks move in the bowl and the eggs mix reasonably well. I'd really rather have a bat or something, but since I don't, when I get my eggs poured onto an edged plate, it just so happens that my brother has been urging me to do the next task.

"What's next?

"Flour your meat. Remove any excess powder."

"Ooh. So?

"Um, please let the powdered meat dive into the eggs and get them wet all over the place. When it's over, bread flour is next."

"Ugh... I'm done with the bread flour too. You're dropping the extra one, too?

"Yes, please drop it. Once that's done, put it in flour, eggs and bread flour order again."

"Ah? Not again."

Even when you're busy, your brother handles meat politely. In the meantime, when I try to prepare fried oil, they stop me "from danger," and apparently your brother does.

Then let's get rid of the cabbage.

While he's mass-producing shredded cabbage for a long time, your brother sticks his vegetable chopsticks into an oil-heated pan. Then the bubble bubbled quietly.

"Add the meat and go fry it. When you have a light tight color, put it on the oil cut."

"Mmm..."

The meat is fried to a light tight color as the fire enters the inside carefully without excessive stiffness. While removing and cutting oil, raise the temperature of the pan.

"What are you gonna do?"

"When the vegetable chopsticks are in the oil and the bubbles come out violently, add the meat to the oil and fry again. This will make your clothes crisp."

"Got it..."

While the meat was being fried, I put a chopped cabbage on the plate and let the fridge fish, so I had lemon and radish, so I got a little.

Make daikon grated, cut lemon, then simple pom vinegar with vinegar, soy sauce and lemon juice.

"Yes, Tonkatsu."

"Oh, this is..."

That's what Dr. Romanov says, while he mouths the first cut.

The sound of a crisp bite of clothes sounded comfortable in his ear, and Mr. Laurent followed by throwing a ton of cutlets into his mouth.

"Here! This is good. The teeth are crisp, but the meat is soft. Plus there's plenty of gravy."

"It's also food, and you can go inside"

"Oh, you can squeeze lemons, you can have radish grated and pong vinegar, or you can salt or soy sauce ~. If it cools, it's sweet and spicy boiled with onions and onions and even with eggs, it's delicious."

As the two of us eat, my brother, who has no forehead and eyebrows, stretches his chopsticks into a ton of cutlets.

Bite the pomegranate and the well-fried clothes, chew them and nod, then eat them again with lemon squeezed or grated pong vinegar.

When I put the chopsticks down, I was suddenly gabbed and my head bowed.

"I didn't say" This is the way it is "or anything!

"Yeah!? Or I don't care..."

It's true that you're a little bit, and it'll be true that you look busy.

But your brother, whose roots seem serious, doesn't give up his head inside.

I wonder what's wrong, your brother suddenly kneels at my feet.

"From now on, I will call you Master!

... How did this happen!?